


Someone Please Murder Dr. Wyne

by NotRoyalty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A little Isaac/Allison/Scott, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Derek goes to school with Scott and Stiles au, Derek isn't nearly as grumpy as he usually is in fics, M/M, Multi, fluff with the barest hint of crack, it just sort of happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:37:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotRoyalty/pseuds/NotRoyalty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles starts asking questions in the margins of his chemistry textbook because that thing couldn't be more confusing, and then someone starts leaving answers.</p><p>Includes a very hated textbook and canonically dead characters that I refuse to admit are dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All human universe.
> 
> This was taken from a prompt I found on tumblr of interesting AUs. Please let me know if there are any factual errors; I've never actually been to a public school or had to share a textbook.

Stiles liked to think that he was a smart kid. He  _was_ a smart kid. Even Lydia had been known to admit on occasion that 'he wasn't as stupid as most people,' but that had been when she was trying to prove a point to Jackson, so Stiles wasn't sure about it. The point was, he should be able to grasp a basic high-school chemistry course. 

And he would, if the author of the textbook, Dr. Wyne, actually wrote in a way that other people might understand. 

"I'm sure Dr. Wyne knew all this," Stiles whispers a little too loudly in the library, wildly flinging the pages back and forth, "but he really should have left the textbooks to someone who actually knew how to communicate with other human beings."

"Are you sure that's the right book?" Allison asks, holding up the cover so she could see it. 

"Yes, Allison. I checked," he turned a page viciously, "twice."

Allison shrugs, and they lapsed into silence again as she continued to proof-read Scott's english paper with a pained expression on her face. 

"All I want," Stiles says, flinging his hands up and leaning back in his chair, "is to find the example problem with the omelet."

"That's not very specific, dude," Scott says, blinking up from Allison's paper, which he had made no marks on whatsoever. 

"Is that supposed to say 'dove'?" Allison asks, pointing at his paper.

"Oh," Scott says, his face falling as he turned to the paper. 

Stiles grabs his pencil wrote _where the hell is the problem with the omelet_ in the margin as if asking the book itself would somehow supply him with an answer. 

"You meant, 'love,' right?" Allison was asking when Stiles slammed the textbook closed. 

"Haha," Scott says, a gooey smile coming across his face, "I dove you."

* * *

 "I need the omelet problem," Stiles says urgently to Lydia. 

"The omelet problem," Lydia sat slowly, pursing her lips and handling the textbook like Stiles had just fished it out of the dumpster, not off the shelf.

"The omelet problem," Stiles repeats, eyes wide. 

"Why do you have an omelet problem?" Jackson asks with his, 'who is this idiot' expression, "I thought you said you have a chemistry problem."

"Yes, Jackson," Stiles says, turning to him in frustration. "I have an omelet problem."

"The chemistry class I took last year was AP, so they had different textbooks, Stiles," Lydia says before Jackson can say something snide, handing the textbook back to him. 

Stiles groans and lets his head fall against the bookshelf with a thump. 

"If you need it that badly," Lydia shrugs, "just go through module 2 page by page until you find it."

"It's 30 pages long," Stiles whines, dragging the textbook to the table and letting it fall open to module 2. 

"Better get started then," Lydia says brightly, hitching her purse on her shoulder and marching to the doors with Jackson in her wake. 

Stiles was only eight pages in when he found his own writing in the margin, but it wasn't alone anymore. Underneath it (above the unflattering drawing of Dave Franco) was a line of tight handwriting. 

_The omelet problem is on page 53._

Stiles just stars at it for a moment before flipping to page 53 as if it was going to disappear if he didn't move fast enough.

* * *

 Stiles's annoyance at Dr. Wyne's inability to write a single sentence that didn't put him to sleep simmered at a bare minimum for more than a week before he found himself wondering how much trouble he would get in for ripping out the pages.

They'd probably just make him replace the whole book. And buying just a single copy of Dr. Wyne's work would be a personal insult to Stiles. 

"You look like you're trying to incinerate that book with your mind," Isaac says blandly, breaking Stiles's death stare designed to travel through the space-time continuum and make Dr. Wyne feel his frustration. 

Stiles makes a frustrated noise and jerked his head up. "I'm on module 4 and I already want to kill the man," he says, picking up his pencil and fiddling with it.

"Allison told me about some devil textbook that you had," he says, raising his chin. "What is it this time?"

"Balancing chemical equations," Stiles grouses, nibbling on his eraser. "Do I really need the  _aq_ or the  _s_ or the  _l_ in the subscripts? And if  _aq_ stands of aqueous, how come it doesn't mean the same thing as _l_? And why can't we change the subscript numbers?"

Isaac just blinks blankly.

"Sorry," Stiles says, spitting out his pencil.

"You could google it," Isaac sats.

"You don't think I tried that, Isaac," Stiles asks, half laughing. "That was literally the first thing I did. I did that before I even came to the library for the book."

Isaac shrugs, and looks to his phone, which had just buzzed. 

"Gotta go," he says, fumbling with his stuff as he types. "Scott needs me."

"Nothing apocalyptic has happened, has it?" Stiles asks, leaning over to peer at his phone.

"Nope," Isaac says, shoving his phone into his pocket.

"I almost wish there would be something apocalyptic," Stiles says, putting the pencil back into his mouth and staring at Isaac's retreating back.

He doesn't feel the least bit guilty when he wrote his entire question in the margin.

When he comes back the next afternoon, the cramped handwriting was crammed into a yellow post-it sticking off the page. 

_Right now you won't be using those subscripts very much, but you'll need them later. 'Aq' means that the substance is dissolved in a liquid, and 'l' means the substance itself is a liquid. You can't change the subscript numbers._

_And stop writing in textbooks._

Stiles grins like a fool, and writes  _thanks_ in the bottom margin.

* * *

Stiles keeps writing questions in the margins, and he keeps getting the cramped replies on post it-notes. He leaves the post-it notes there to help confused future students. He's much kinder than Dr. Wyne.

"I shouldn't watch," Stiles says, jumping down the stairs ahead of Scott after leaving a question for module 7. "I don't want to jinx it."

"Dude, what are talking about?" Scott says, looking thoroughly confused. 

"The Guardian Angel of Chemistry Students Suffering Through Dr. Wyne's Failure of a Textbook," Stiles says dramatically, spreading his hands like it was a title.

"You mean the guy who told you where the omelet problem was?" 

"I should make up an acronym for them," Stiles says, staring into space. "It would be G-A-C-S-S-D- no, G-A-C-S-S-T-D-W-F-T. Should 'Dr.' and "Wyne' be just a 'D'?"

They end up losing the entire chain of thought at that point to a series of jokes that make Allison almost look like she regretted walking up with Isaac. 

"Oh, Stiles," she says before dragging Scott and Isaac off, "I just saw some guy dropping off your chemistry textbook back on the shelf."

"You saw the ggasstdwft?" Stiles says eagerly, making it sound like he was choking. 

"The what?" Allison says blankly, drawing her eyebrows in confusion.

"Don't ask," Scott whispers.

"What did he look like?" Stiles asks eagerly. 

"I thought you didn't want to jinx it," Scott says.

"Well Allison already saw him," Stiles explains, "if it was going to be jinxed, she already jinxed it so there's no point it trying to keep it up now."

"He was wearing a leather jacket," Allison says, frowning. "He was walking away so I didn't really see very well. I think he had dark hair, too."

"Great," Stiles sighs, "that narrows it down to like all the guys who want to look like a badass in this school."

* * *

Stiles leaves a question about module 8 even though he understands it perfectly.

When Scott brings it up, he raises his eyebrows and asks why him, Allison, and Isaac are always disappearing together. 

* * *

At module 10 Stiles asks. 

_How come you know so much about chemistry, man?_

"I figure he's not a teacher," he tells Erica, who isn't listening because she's too busy texting Boyd. "Cause no teacher's going to be going through that textbook. No human being would even touch that thing if they didn't have to. So it has to be another student, but one who's got a weirdly advanced understanding of the concept. But not too advanced because then he'd be in AP."

"How do you know it's a he?" Erica asks, looking up finally. 

"Allison saw him," Stiles says triumphantly. "She said he was wearing a leather jacket and had dark hair."

"That's awfully unspecific," Erica replies. "Boyd wears a leather jacket and has dark hair."

"Yeah," Stiles said, frowning and leaning back. "But Boyd hasn't taken chemistry yet," he said, sitting up, "so that rules out one guy with dark hair and a leather jacket. Only seven thousand more to go."

When he goes back to the library, there is a terse response written on a pink post-it.

_I read._

* * *

Stiles didn't have time to study chemistry. His father had been caught up in some ridiculous bank stand-off and Stiles had accidentally spent the entire night researching the the probability of personally knowing a serial killer.

Morning somehow came all the same, though, and he found himself staring at the library book with the morose knowledge that he was going to fail this week's quiz. 

 _I am going to fail the quiz because I don't have time to study_ , he writes in the bottom margin, and he's unsure why, or what he expects to get back. 

He does pretty much fail the quiz (he guesses right on a few), but when he goes back to start the next module, he finds about ten sticky notes highlighting all the stuff he needed to know for the quiz. 

That was when Stiles realized he had a crush on someone that only ever left post-its in a chemistry textbook.

* * *

"I gotta nail this quiz," Stiles says, imitating the coach's pep-talk voice. 

"Did you leave extra questions for the Chem Fairy?" Scott asks. They'd taken to calling him that even though it'd had Jackson asking them if that was the name of their dealer several times.

"Not really," Stiles shrugs, "this module wasn't too bad, but I still asked him about the difference between Hess's law and the other one."

"Sounds rough," Scott says in vague sympathy. 

Stiles pushes the door to the library open and makes a bee-line for the shelf where the textbook he's come to like a great deal better than he thought he would always sat.

It's not there.

"Scott!" Stiles hisses, earning a look from the librarian. "It's gone."

"Maybe another student has it," Scott suggests, and Stiles is gone, zeroing in on the tables, and lifting up people's books to peer at the covers. 

He's still annoying the life out of everyone in the room when Scott grabs him by the back of his hoodie and yanks him back into the shelves.

"Did you find it?" Stiles asks.

"Sort of," Scott whispers, and points between two books to the isle beside them. 

Stiles jams his head between the books and peered at the boy sitting leaning up against the book case with his dark head bent over Stiles's chemistry book. He was wearing a black leather jacket, and beside him was a pad of yellow post-its.

"Oh my g-" Stiles begins, and Scott drags him back down to the floor.

"It's the Chemistry Fairy, Scott," he whispers. 

"Chemistry Fairy?" comes a deep voice from the isle beside them and Stiles freezes, realizing he said it too loud. 

"And he's hot," Stiles breaths to Scott, quieter this time.

Chemistry Fairy comes around the corner to stare down at the two of them crouched on the floor.

"Really?" he asks, raising his eyebrow.

"That's probably not your real name," Stiles blurts, standing up gracelessly. "You just know an awful lot about chemistry for someone who's reading that textbook."

"Derek," he says blandly, "my name is Derek. And I run one of the study groups."

"There's a study group?"

* * *

Stiles shows up to the study group at the public library even though he's pretty sure Derek hates him. 

The entire time they were studying the laws of thermodynamics, Derek keeps sending frowning looks his way, and Stiles just gets progressively more fidgety until Derek finally gets through the last practice problem and everyone else is packing up.

"Listen, dude," Stiles says to Derek, who looks up from his backpack in surprise. "Sorry about the whole Chemistry Fairy thing."

"What?" Derek says, confused.

"Aren't you mad at me?" Stiles says.

"No," Derek says, seeming even more confused. 

"Awesome," Stiles says, grinning. "You were just glaring at me the entire time, so I figured-"

"You're an idiot," Derek says, and Stiles stops. "I wasn't glaring at you."

Stiles opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

"I was just wondering how you've been doing so well without going to any of the study groups," he says. "This textbook is a complete nightmare. If it wasn't for me and Erica running study groups, I'm pretty sure every single student in the class would be failing."

"Erica runs a study group?" Stiles asks indignently, "she never told me."

"You were doing so well I thought you were in her study group," Derek says, "so I didn't mention it to you in the notes."

"Well the only reason I'm doing well is because you explain it," Stiles shrugs, and Derek smiles.

He keeps going to the study groups even though he was doing fine without them.

* * *

Stiles raises his chemistry test above his head and shouts, "SCREW YOU, DR. WYNE."

Half the people in the courtyard turn to look at him but he just grins and brandishes the red  _A_ at them.

He's still grinning like a fool when he darts into the library where Derek is stacking books. 

"Look at this, man," he says, slamming the test down on the table. "I got an A. On the final."

"Good job," Derek grunts in his usual fashion, handing the textbook back to him. 

"World's worst textbook, and I still get an A," Stiles says, waving the paper, "but that's mostly thanks to you, man."

"What would you say," Derek says, handing him the books, "if I told you that the school's getting new chemistry text-books."

Stiles stops. "You mean no one else will have to suffer through this?" he asks indignantly.

"Nope," Derek says, handing him a book. 

"That's totally not fair," Stiles says, pulling a post-it out of the book.

Derek didn't reply, so he closed the book and went to toss it to the pile until he saw a pink post-it on the back.

_Go on a date with me._

Stiles says yes so fast it's as if he's afraid question is going to disappear if he doesn't move fast enough.

Their first date is spent over burning textbooks, and Stiles is pretty sure it's the best first date he'll ever have. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the heck, I'll add an epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been like forever since I published this fic, but it's one of the only works of mine that I actually like, so I'm going to add to it.

"I can't believe you're not starting another study group," Stiles sighs lazily, his head pillowed on Derek's stomach where they both lay in the September sun on the school's little patch of grass. 

"They have a new textbook," rumbles Derek, turning the page of the English paper he's proofreading for Isaac (even Stiles is confounded as to how Scott gets everyone to proofread his and Isaac's papers). "If it's halfway decent, the won't need me."

Stiles grunted in ascension, looking down at his phone. "Too bad," he says. "Boyd is taking it this year, and I think you two would get along fantastic."

"Why's that," Derek asks. 

"You're both stoic," Stiles lists, "you both have leather jackets, and you both have incredibly hot significant others."

He grins widely up at Derek, who just shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

"What?" Stiles says, lifting his head. "Am I not incredibly hot?"

"Yes, Stiles," Derek sighs, fighting a smile, "you are incredibly hot."

"And so is Erica," Stiles says with satisfaction, settling his head back onto Derek's stomach. "So-"

"Did I hear my name?" Erica says, standing right in the middle of Stiles's sun.

"I was going to say," Stiles says, poking her leg with his shoe, "that I don't stand in peoples' sun like Erica does."

Ignoring him, Erica turned and sat down on the grass next to them. 

"By the way," Stiles says, lifting his head, "do you have Boyd's textbook? I wanna know how much this year's chemistry students have to suffer."

Erica pulls out a massive textbook and drops in on Stiles's stomach. 

"Green," Stiles admonishes, picking it up, "I like it already."

Derek smiles softly behind his paper, and busies himself correcting Isaac's frankly horrific MLA formatting. If he hadn't be distracted by Isaac's inability to have in-text citations, he would have seen the expression of utter horror on Stiles face.

"Derek," he said softly. "This is a disaster."

"Yes it is," he absently replied, scribbling  _see me_ on Isaac's margin. 

"No, I'm serious," Stiles says, sitting up and pointing to the title of Boyd's text book:

_Modern Chemistry_

2nd edition

By Dr. Anthony Wyne

**Author's Note:**

> This got a little weird at the end but it's almost midnight and I should have been asleep an hour ago.


End file.
